We’ve all had those days- bad hair days. I know I’ve had them. Rainy, humid days where I look like I put my finger in a socket.I feel ridiculous that I paid for that look in high school. I had some insanely high, spiral permed hair. Oh, 1980’s my hair does not miss you.
When I was a little girl my grandmother would brush my hair before I left for school in the morning. As she brushed she would say, “your hair is your crowning glory”. I remember looking in the mirror after she or my mother would braid my hair saying, “my crowning glory”. I felt like a princess.
Lately I’ve been having A LOT of bad hair days. Pretty much everyday has been a bad hair day. I find that by the time I finally have a moment to do my hair and put on makeup the day has passed me by. I’ve spent the majority of the day looking like I just stepped out of a Zombie movie.
Yesterday I decided I was putting my zombie days behind me. I’ve been in a funk. Maybe not looking like the Bride of Frankenstein will help me out of it. My husband works a kijillion hours a week and his boss thinks it’s *nice* to send him out of town on his days off. I rarely ever have time to do something for myself. Everyone was home yesterday with nothing to do so, I called a salon nearby to see if they had any appointments available for the weekend. Easy Peasy? This was my conversation
Me: “Hi I was wondering if you had any appointments available today or tomorrow for a haircut?”
Salon: “Have you ever been here before?”
Me: “I think once, but it was over a year ago.” (My big mistake)
Salon: “Do you know who cut your hair?”
Me: “I don’t remember what I had for breakfast let alone who cut my hair more than a year ago. Like I said I was only there once. It doesn’t matter to me who cuts my hair. I just desperately need a hair cut.”
Salon: “Do you remember if she was tall? Did she have blonde hair?”
Geez lady I just want a haircut. I had no idea I’d be undergoing an interrogation. Obviously the stylist nor the salon left me with an indelible impression, I haven’t been back there in a year. I’ve been so desperate, I’ve cut my own hair. For the love of God I just want to get a haircut!
Salon:” Umm, hold on a second.”
I hear lots of talking in the background. “She was here a year ago, but she doesn’t know who cut her hair.”
Second woman gets on the phone. I say, “Hi I just want to schedule a cut. I don’t care who does it.”
Salon lady #2: “She said you were here a year ago. Do you remember at all who cut your hair? Was her name Tammy or Michelle?”
At this point I’m thinking this has to be some sort of a joke.
Me: “What the heck! All I want is to know if you have an appointment available? I was there ONCE, a year ago! Why does it matter?”
Salon lady #2: Okay then how about tomorrow?
Me: “On second thought I’m thinking this is a bad idea. I’ve spent 15 minutes on the phone with you interrogating me about who cut my hair a year ago.”
I called another salon who happily booked my appointment. I finally got a haircut. Why do some businesses try so hard to fail. I would have eagerly given the other salon my business if they weren’t so overly concerned with what happened a year ago.
Thankfully, I no longer look like a zombie or a victim of electrocution.